


A Lesson In Love

by orphan_account



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Shameless Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 22:17:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6876001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassandra signed up for a Creative Writing 101 class at UCLA. The guest teacher? James Franco. And she didn't expect to get more than a lesson in writing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lesson In Love

I walk into the lecture hall, and I'm surprised to find myself and four others the only ones there. Huh. Guess the waiting list for this class wasn’t that long. It’s at least 5 minutes past the time the class has started. I sit down at the seat closest to the front, eager to learn from and see the guest teacher. 

Five minutes later, a man with dark brown hair, white shirt, and blue jeans walks in. He's hurriedly taking papers out of a folder and placing them on a desk. I absentmindedly play with my pencil, pretending not to notice who he is at first. Then I look up again, only to see James Franco, in all his beautiful glory, standing in front of me, flustered and out of breath. His smile blinded me, his gorgeous face breathtaking. 

“Sorry about running late… oh is this all the class?” he sounded disappointed, a frown marring his features. “I thought the turnout would be… bigger to say the least.” 

Speechless, I can only gawk at him. He seems so… _ normal. _ And the way he speaks, he's intelligent. Nothing like the media portrays him. He's an actual intellectual. I bet he reads the  _ Iliad  _ in his spare time. 

“So, who's ready to learn about creative writing?” he asks, and by a show of (the very few) hands, he smiles. 

“Alright then. Let's get started!” he says enthusiastically, rubbing his hands together. “Who wants to start by showing me a short story of thiers?”

My hand is the first one raised. “Me.”

He smiles at me. “And what is your name?” 

I swallow hard before answering. “Cassandra.”

“Well, Cassandra,” my name rolls off his tongue beautifully, “wait, may I call you Cassie?” 

I nod. “Well Cassie, what are you going to share?”

I clear my throat, and respond shakily, “It's a story called _ The Blue Book.  _ It's about a girl who struggles with depression and to deal with it, she takes to writing her sexual experiences, real, and imagined, in a little blue book that she carries around with her.”

“Hm, risqué and realistic.” He lowers his voice. “Tell me, is it based on truth or fiction?” he pointedly looks at the little blue book I have hidden in my bookbag, visible only to him. I pale, his face so close to mine, and I breathe out “ _ Truth,”  _ and he leans back and smiles again. 

“Interesting plot. Have you finished it?”

“No, it's sort of a work in progress.”

“Such a shame. I would love to read it when it's done.” He winks at me, and moves on to the next person, asking about their story.

_ Did James Franco just flirt with me? Like, actually flirt with me? And did he wink at me? Or am I hallucinating? _

I blink, realizing I've been staring at the wall for five minutes, pondering what just happened.  _ Get it together Cassie. You're a nineteen year old woman and you need to act mature, not like some starstruck tween. PULL. YOURSELF. TOGETHER. _

I'm instantly brought back to reality when I hear male laughter coming from across the room. Apparently, one of my classmates is making James laugh. 

He walks back to the front of the lecture hall, and picks up a few papers. 

“I want you all to write down on a piece of paper an adaptation of your story, as if it were to be made into a movie. Like a screenplay of sorts. If it isn't finished,” he glances at me, “it's alright.” He hands out the papers, and they're blank. “You have 20 minutes. And… go!”

I grab my pencil and frantically start writing. The words, the structure in which they’re placed, fly out of my head and into my hands, like art. I know I have a gift for writing, I always have. Words have just flowed onto the page like water flows in a stream; it’s like autopilot, I don’t even have to think about it.  _ Tristan’s hands caress Amelia’s face. ‘Tell me how bad you want it, you naughty girl,’ he says huskily. She glances at him, fleetingly, her breast heaving, and replies in the sweetest voice, ‘Badly.’ He smiles, and cracks the whip across her bare behind, flashes of leather black (his signature jacket) and eyes of blue (his eyes) crossing her mind, leaving a welt, and he intakes a sharp breath. ‘How’s that, my naughty slave?’  _

I’m snapped out of my reverie by a presence behind me, and I turn and see James reading over my shoulder. 

“Why did you stop?” He whispers. “ _ It was just getting good.” _

I look at him imploringly, confused as to why he would take an interest in my naughty writing. He leans down by my ear, and says in a low, seductive voice, “You’re not the only one with a kinky side.” He winks, and moves on to the next person. 

I find myself aroused by the close proximity, and by the seductive tone of his voice.  _ He’s so sexy. _

I go back to writing, but this time, instead of imagining the lover in my story being Tristan, he’s replaced by James, and the woman, Amelia, replaced by me. Instead of Tristan doing those things to Amelia, it was James doing those things to me. Instead of Tristan bending Amelia over a desk, it was James bending me over a desk, and my body grows hot at the thought.  _ Oh god, this is bad. Really bad. _

My face reddens, and I thank the heavens that I’m not facing everyone else, so they’re unable to see my face, especially James. I breathe slowly, in and out, counting to ten. Finally, the fire in my face dies down, my skin changing back to its regular creamy tone. I continue writing, and absentmindedly write James’s name and my own in place of Tristan’s and Amelia’s.

_ James kissed his way down towards her folds, and darted a tongue inside, tasting her dewy center. ‘Tastes sweet, like candy,’ he remarked, and Cassandra inhaled, shaking from the sudden contact of his tongue. ‘Almost like cherry pie.’  _

_ ‘Master, please, make me feel good, make me come!’ Cassandra cried out, squirming against his firm grip on her legs, and the chains that bound her hands.  _

_ ‘Ah ah ah, Cassie; what did I say about moving? Do I have to chain your entire body down? Hm?’ _

_ ‘If it would please my master to do so, then yes. Chain me down, Master. Make me your sex slave.’ _

_ He grins. ‘Oh my dear, that’s a marvelous idea.’ _

“Time’s up!” James exclaims. “Please hand me your papers, and I’ll grade them and give them back to you next class period.”

He starts by picking up the papers in the top row, then the second, then finally my row. I hand him my paper, not realizing my mistake until it’s too late. He looks at the paper, and raises an eyebrow. He continues walking down the steps, back to his desk, and at that moment, the bell rings. I grab my things and try to dart out of there as fast as I can, resolving to never step foot in the class again, only to be stopped by the calling of my name.

“Cassie, would you please stay after class? I need to ask you a few questions regarding the assignment. Assuming of course, that you don’t have any other classes after mine?”

I turn on my heel, and walk to the desk, my bookbag slapping against my leg. “No, none that I can think of, Mr. Franco.”

He smiles. “Good. Just take a seat while I finish grading these other papers. And please, call me James.”

I return to my seat, and the rest of the class files out, until all that’s left is me and him, and a silent classroom. I twiddle my thumbs, my leg shaking, unable to keep still. 

He checks things off in a red marker, occasionally writing something in the margins of each paper,  until he gets to what I can only assume is my paper. He clears his throat.

“So, Cassie, what happened to Tristan and Amelia? They disappeared from the story shortly after you and I had our little exchange. And from what I can see, they’ve been replaced by- well- us.”

I can feel my face getting red yet again. “James, I can exp-”

He holds a hand up. “No need to. I know what’s going on here. It’s pretty apparent Cassie.” He gets up, and strides towards my desk. Slapping his hand down on the desktop, effectively scaring me, he gets close to my face and looks me in the eyes. “You’re sexually attracted to me. And you feel embarrassed about it. But you don’t need to. Because, my dear Cassie, I’m attracted to you too.”

I look at him, a surprised look on my face. “W-what? You are? To me?”  _ Oh god Cassie you sound like a blithering idiot.  _

He smiles. “Yes Cassie.  _ Extremely _ attracted to you, so to speak. Very few women catch my eye. And I knew it the moment I walked into the room you were special, a person of uniquely developed tastes, like me.”

_ I knew you were special too.  _ I think to myself, and a blush threatens to overtake my face. “‘U-uniquely developed tastes’? Like, BDSM?” I sputter out.

He leans forward within centimeters. “ _ Exactly  _ like BDSM,” his mouth curls into a wicked smile. 

I breathe in sharply, my eyes darting to his lips. “Kiss me,” I whisper, and he does, crushing his lips hard against mine, my eyes fluttering shut, fire and sparks dancing behind my eyelids.

His hand makes its way to my hair and pulls me back from my desk, causing me to lean back in my seat. James breaks the kiss and pushes the desk to the side only to continue to kiss me fervently as his other hand grabs my butt firmly. 

I arch, the sudden contact surprising me, and I lean forward and press against his body. He pulls me up, so that my face is almost level with his, and goes back to kissing me with such a passion unmatched by my previous lovers.  _ Who knew kissing could feel this good? _

I reach up and twist my fingers in the beautiful brown locks on top of his head, and tug a little on a chunk of it. He groans against my mouth, enjoying the pleasure and pain. He smacks my ass, and I moan, the sting of pain coursing through my body, causing me to kiss him even harder. He picks me up, and I wrap my legs around him and he walks over to his desk and sets me on it, unbuttoning my shirt. Finally, the last button is undone and he opens it, to reveal my creamy white lace bra, and he moans. 

“Such a virtuous color choice for a corrupted girl. You are anything but innocent.”

I smirk. “I know.”

He reaches around and undoes my bra, sliding the straps down, and my breasts spring free, nipples hard and erect. He takes my left breast in his palm and brings his mouth down onto the nipple, sucking hard and blowing on it. 

I gasp, the sensation blowing me away. “Oh fuck, James,” I pant, growing wetter by the second. “That feels so good…”

He locks eyes with me and I can feel his mouth smile. After a second of smiling, he sucks a dark spot over my nipple still not breaking eye contact. I moan and pull his face closer to my breast, my eyes rolling back. 

A sudden thought crosses my mind.  _ Oh god what if we get caught? _

As much as I hated to stop him, I had to. “James, we have to stop. We’re going to get caught. Your next class comes in at 1 and its already 12:55.”

He stops sucking. He sighs. “Fuck. And I was just getting started.” He stands up, and I fasten my bra back on, and button my shirt back up. “How about this? How about you come over to my place after I’m done with my classes for the day? That way, we can finish what we started.”

I nod. “Sounds like a plan.” I smile at him. “What's your address?”

“I’ll text you it. Give me your number.”

I do, and he writes it down. 

I pick up my bookbag, and I head towards the door. I turn around and say in the most innocent voice I can muster, “See you then,”  and turn on my heel and walk out the classroom, practically willing myself not to jump from excitement.

 

…

 

I stare at the clock on my dorm room wall.  _ 3 pm. _ I’m practically bustling with excitement, unable to control my nerves. I’m shaking, just like I was in the classroom, but only because I’m waiting on a text from  _ him. _

Finally, my phone buzzes, and the familiar  _ In the land of gods and monsters _ ringtone chimes, signaling I have a text message. I unlock my phone, and see the text is from a blocked number.  _ 1657 Marmont Avenue. See you soon.  _

I race down to my car, and slam the keys into the ignition, and drive off campus like a crazy maniac. I head for the Hollywood Hills, and I look for 1657 Marmont Avenue, locating it and parking in the driveway. I get out and adjust my outfit before knocking. Before I can even knock, James opens the door, a smile on his face. “I've been expecting you.” He steps aside to invite me in, placing a hand on my ass. “Here, let me show you around,” he guides me through the living room, library, kitchen, and office. Then we enter his bedroom. _Holy shit. I think I'm in love._ Instead of boring wallpaper, wood paneling covers the entire room, and on the east side, a big glass window with a door, leading out to the balcony. The room is filled with cream colored furniture, a king sized bed with a simple, elegant headboard, the room lit by the soft glow of several lamps. A beautiful artisan rug lies beneath the bed, and a chaise lounge chair sits in the corner of the room. A small bookshelf lines one side of the wall, and upon closer inspection, I find many of the books are classics, things I read in high school. _The Iliad, The Great Gatsby,_ and notably a book of stories and poems by James Joyce. He sits down in a big leather chair, watching me intently. “You like the place?”

“I love it. The colors, how every room seems to flow together. The vision of you fucking me on every surface…” I look at him, a big grin on my face. “Did I say that out loud?”

“You sure as fuck did, baby.” He practically pounces on me and pins me down, ravishing my neck, leaving bite marks all over as he rips open my shirt, and removes my bra.

I moan and pull up the back of his shirt, tugging it over his head, to reveal his chiseled and toned body, my mouth watering and my core starting to become wet.  _ He is, without a doubt, perfection. _ I run my fingers up and down his chest, mesmerized by how defined he is, and I drag one finger down his chest, all the way down his happy trail, leading to the button of his blue jeans. I use one hand and while kissing him unbutton his pants, and he reaches down to slide them off. He steps out of the legs and kicks them off, now only clad in his black satin boxers. I tuck my hand in the waistband, and reach for his long hard shaft. He grabs my hand, and pulls it out of his boxers. 

“Not yet, Cassie. I haven’t had my fun with you yet.” He kisses me, and smiles against my lips. “After all, I am the master. And you, my obedient little sex slave.”

I shiver, not out of fear, but out of anticipation for the games to come. “Yes master,” I reply, reverting to my submissive persona. I kneel down before him, completely obedient, awaiting his command. 

“Out of curiosity, are you on the pill?”

I nod. “Yes.” 

“Good.” His hand touches the top of my head, and grabs the hair there, and twists it. “How does that feel?”

The pain of my hair being pulled is nothing compared to what I’ve had done to me. “It feels good,” I reply, still submissive in my position. 

He tugs my hair so that I’m looking up at him. “Who do you belong to?” He says, a serious and dark tone in his voice. 

“Yours, master. I’m yours. You can do whatever you please with me.”

He chuckles darkly. “Anything I want, hm?”

He reaches for the waistband of his boxers and pulls them down. “Suck me.”

I look up at him, and I comply, my mouth surrounding his half hard cock. He moans, running his fingers through my hair, pushing me forward and pulling me back, and I can feel him getting harder. He starts thrusting in my mouth, and I gag a little when he reaches the back of my throat. He presses further, until he’s in my throat, and I suppress my gag reflex as best as I can. He moans, and chants “fuck, fuck, fuck” over and over again, still thrusting, until I assume he’s about to come. He pulls out, and yanks me up by the hair and I whimper, the pain excruciating. He leans down and nips at my neck, leaving love bites, marking me as his. 

“No one is allowed to touch you but me. No man can even look at you or kiss you or touch you. You’re mine now. Got it?” He growls, his hand on my neck.

“Y-yes, Master.” I manage to say, his hands squeezing my throat ever so slightly, not too hard, but just hard enough to make me choke a little.

“Say who you belong to. Say it.”

“I belong to you, James, and only you.”

He grins, a triumphant look on his face. “Now that we’ve established that, let’s get you out of those pants.” He unbuttons my pants, and tugs them down my legs. 

“No underwear?” He says, surprised.

“No Master,” I say in the softest voice, and he smiles. 

“Naughty girl. Such a naughty girl…” He turns me around, so that I’m not facing him.

He reaches down, inbetween my legs, and strokes my sensitive clit. I moan, the pleasure exquisite, enjoying the feeling of him rolling the sensitive bundle of nerves between his fingers, and I’m completely wet. He kisses my shoulder, biting the skin there and licking the areas he bit, soothing them. He turns me around, and picks me up bridal style, and sets me on the bed. 

“Lay back.” He instructs, and I do, and he spreads my legs open, and kneels down and licks my sensitive area. I gasp, and my mind immediately flashes back to my story.

“Sweet, like candy,” he purrs. “Almost like  _ cherry pie. _ ”

I smile.  _ He’s quoting my story. That’s hot.  _ “Are you going to make me come with your tongue, master?”

“I am, but it seems like we’re missing a few key components to this story. Like  _ chains. _ ”

I shudder, and he gets up and leaves the room only to return a moment later with a chain and a lock. He wraps my hands in the chain and locks it firmly into place, and I’m unable to move my hands. I’m completely at his mercy. 

He kneels back down at the foot of the bed, and licks me again, and his tongue darts in, deeper and deeper inside me, lavishing my inner walls with attention, sucking on my clit, and I can feel myself about to come. 

He notices my lips quivering and says, “Come for me, now.”

I let go, and my release covers his face, and he laps it up like honeydew. 

“So good. You taste so sweet.”

I moan in reply, unable to form a coherent thought. 

He flips me over, unlocks the chain and traces the back of my neck down to my spine, all the way down to my ass. He smacks the left cheek once, and the right cheek twice. I moan, the pain and pleasure mixing together. 

“Do you want me to fuck you, Cassie? Do you want me to drive you crazy with my cock? Do you want me to make you feel so good, you’ll never want another man ever again?”

“Yes, James. I want you so badly. I want you to make me yours…”

“I guess you’ll have to wait, Cassie. You haven’t proved yourself worthy enough yet to be fucked.”

I moan even louder. “Please master, I’ve been such a good girl…”

A thoughtful look crosses his face. “Well, you have been quite good, being an obedient little slut. I guess this time I can relent. Plus I can’t deny how badly I want you at this moment. You’re so tempting, forbidden… Something about you brings out a even more darker side in me.”

I look at him. “Forbidden? Is it possibly because I’m your student? Or that I’m 18 years younger than you? Does that make you feel dangerous? Or does that turn you on?”

“It’s both, Cassie. You're my student and my little.” He strokes my cheek. “I feel as though if someone were to find out it could cost me my job but the risk is so worth fucking you.” He ends his little speech by rubbing my entrance tenderly, as if he wants to go for round two. I let out a sigh as he touches me, I can feel his nose breathe in my scent over my neck as he slowly grinds his member against my backside.

“Wow, you  _ do  _ have a soft side,” I tease. He only laughs and nips over my shoulder and shoulder blade. I test the waters and reach back to tangle my fingers in his hair. He pushes his member between my legs and just rock back and forth without entering me, moving me with him. “James…” I sigh.  _ God he feels so good. Just like this. _

“Yes, princess?” He murmurs on the back of my neck.

Shivers form all over my body. “Don't stop…” I take one of his hands and press soft kisses over his fingertips, tracing his hand over my breasts and stomach then back over my side. He rocks harder, his long shaft rubbing against my sensitive clit, and I can feel myself coming yet again. 

Unable to hold back any longer, I come, and he stops rocking, only to guide himself inside me. He does it so slowly it's almost unbearable. Finally, his whole length is inside me, and I moan, the intense feeling of being so full, full of  _ him, _ almost too much. He rocks his hips back and forth, fucking me slowly, breathing heavily, and I can assume he's trying not to come. Each time he pushes inside me, I move my hips back to meet his thrusts, and each time he pulls out, I move my hips forward, matching his pace. He starts to thrust into me, harder, deeper, faster. He hits places that I never knew existed inside me. I moan, burying my face into the bed, grasping the sheets, relishing every thrust, every moan, every grunt coming from him. Every sound he makes is hot, and his voice makes my legs quiver, his hands on my hips, everything just sensual and erotic. My toes curl, my breath becomes ragged, and I can feel myself coming. 

Suddenly he pulls out, and flips me over, just to enter me yet again. He thrusts hard, driving into me with such a force unmatched by anyone I've ever slept with. It was like he  _ needed  _ to be inside me. Like I was his salvation, his life source, his goddess. He leaned forward, eyes locking onto mine, and kissed me with such passion it ignited a fire in my belly, an age old desire to please, to make him feel  _ good. _ I flip us over so that I’m riding him hard, pinning his arms down above his head, his eyes widening in surprise only to close back shut, his head tipped back, a euphoric look on his face. I kissed his jaw, and bit everywhere I could reach, tantalizing him, driving his senses crazy, causing him to moan my name loudly, and begging to let him touch me. I relent, letting his hands go, and his hands touch my body, worshipping every part of me that he could reach, and he sits up and takes one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard and feverishly, and that pushes me over the edge. I come, my walls clamping down on him, and the sensation is too much for him, and he comes with a loud shout, and murmurs my name into the skin of my breasts, over and over, rubbing his hands up and down my back, as I lean forward and collapse on top of him, panting.

He kisses me, and smiles while looking at me. “You're amazing, Cassie. So amazing…”

I laugh. “Yeah?”

He chuckles, “Definitely.” 

“Better than anyone you’ve ever had?”

“Without a doubt.”

I lay down, my head nestled in the crook of his arm. “Good.” I move my head so that it lays on top of his chest, and I can hear his breathing slow as he comes down from his high, but his heart is beating fast, and I smile.  _ You caused that Cassie, you make him feel like this. _ I take pride in the fact that it's me of all people that can make him feel this way.

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know I’m waking up covered in a blanket in an empty bed, and it's dark, except for the few lamps that illuminate the room.

I look around and I see him standing in the doorway, his head tilted to the side, a big smile on his face, the kind of smile that makes the corner of his eyes crinkle in the sexiest way. “Are you finally awake?” He's only clad in a pair of grey sweatpants, and his hair, oh god his hair, swept out of his face, and he looks like James Dean.

I stutter, my breath taken away by his dazzling smile, “Y-yeah. Wait, what time is it?”

“It's seven o’ clock. Why do you ask?”

“No reason. Just wondering. Also, I need a shower.” 

He chuckles. “Anything you need, Cassie.”

He directs me to the shower, and I hop in, taking time to wash my body, and relax under the hot water. I thoroughly rinse off, and step out of the shower, wrapping my body in a towel. Facing the mirror, I dry my hair with another towel, and I almost didn’t notice James coming into the bathroom only to place some clothes on a shelf. I turn around and face him.

“They’re, uh, for you, so that you don’t have to walk around naked, unless you want to,” he says, stepping back and gesturing towards the clothes. “There’s a t-shirt of mine there and I found some old sweatpants with a drawstring waist so you can adjust the size so they’ll fit you. Also, I’m cooking a late dinner. I imagine you’re hungry?”

“Thanks and yes, now that you mention it, I am,” I say, giving him a smile, amused at his shift in personality.  _ He seems almost... nervous. It’s endearing.  _ I face the mirror again, and resume drying my hair.

He nods his head and shoots me a tiny smirk, and turns to leave the room. 

“James?”

He turns, and I ask, “Why are you so nervous?”

He laughs timidly. “You make me feel differently. It’s been awhile since I’ve felt, well,  _ anxious _ around a woman. I work so much so I barely have any time for myself. What happened earlier, well… that’s the first time in a while I’ve done anything with anyone.”

“Well, I don’t think it’ll certainly be the last,” I respond, winking at his reflection. “You’re quite good at what you do. Best I’ve had in awhile as well.”

He snickers. “Oh, you’re just saying that. I bet you’ve had better.”

“No, I’m telling the truth,” I say, “you’re the best I’ve had in awhile. Can’t ever remember coming that many times.” I finish drying my hair, and I turn and face him, a predatory look crossing my features as I walk towards him. “If we weren’t about to eat, and if I hadn’t just got done showering, I’d ravish you here in the bathroom.” My face is centimeters from his, and my lips almost touching his mouth.

He eyes me, and leans forward and kisses me, tangling his fingers into my damp hair. I match his kiss, the intensity burning all the way down to my toes, and into my fingertips. He extracts one hand from my hair and places it on my lower back, effectively pressing me against his entire body. I find myself swaying, and I start to grind against him.

Before I can do much else, he lets go of me, and pushes me away gently, resting his forehead against mine. “We have to stop,” he breathes, “or else the food is going to burn.”

I laugh and pull away reluctantly, and I grab the clothes. “Better hurry then. We wouldn’t want to eat burned food.”

He comes up behind me and gives me a quick peck on my shoulder, then leaves. I get dressed, putting on the old t-shirt (which happens to have the name of some band on it,) and I put on the sweatpants, adjusting the string to fit my waist. Putting my towels in a hamper, I exit the bathroom and walk down the hallway to the kitchen. 

Jazz music graces my ears, playing over a speaker somewhere in the kitchen. I see him shimmy along to the beat, picking up a pot of noodles, walking over to the sink to dump it in a strainer, and pours the strained noodles back into the pot. I smile.  _ What a goofball. _ He turns around and jumps when he notices me, almost dropping the now refilled pot of noodles. I seem to have scared him.

“Jesus, Cassie, you scared me,”  _ I knew it. _ “You were so quiet, I almost dropped our dinner.”

“Well good thing that didn’t happen, huh?” I say, and make my way over to the counter, sitting on a high stool and watching him cook. “Besides, what would we eat with your delicious looking spaghetti sauce?”

He smiles. “True. Although, I think you need to taste the sauce to understand how delicious it actually is.” He holds up a wooden spoon full of said sauce. “Try it.”

I open my mouth and taste, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time. “Mmm,” I say, suggestively licking my lips. “Delicious.”

He swallows, staring at my tongue gliding over my lips. “I thought you would find it to your liking.”

I grin, knowing the full effect I have over him. 

He goes over to the cupboard and takes out two plates, and spoons the noodles and sauce onto each. He sets my plate down in front of me, and his next to mine, then turns around and goes into a small room and comes out with a bottle of merlot. He sets it down on the counter and walks over to the cupboard again and takes out two wine glasses. Opening a drawer, he pulls out two forks and a corkscrew and opens the merlot, pouring a decent amount into each glass, and finally sits next to me, handing me my fork. 

I stare at the glass of merlot, a little taken aback. “James?”

He looks at me with a strand of spaghetti hanging out of his mouth. “Hmm?”

“You do know I’m only nineteen, right?”

“Yeah, and?”

I stare at him, letting my words sink in. 

He stops chewing and a look of realization crosses his face. “Have you not had alcohol before?”

“Well, yeah I have-”

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem then, right?” He looks at me, smiling.

“No, I guess not.” I twirl my fork, getting a decent amount of pasta on it, and bring it up to my mouth.  _ It smells so good. _ I eat it, and my mouth is dancing with flavors, and I moan. 

“I’ve never tasted anything this good before!”

“Really?”

“Yes,” I say, savoring the spaghetti. “I usually eat it with lots of oregano, just like my mom makes it, but this is way better!”

He laughs. “My mother taught me how to make really good spaghetti, so this is her recipe.”

“Well your mother taught you well.” I smile, and finish my plate. 

He sips his merlot, watching me. “You know something, Cassie? You're quite interesting. And incredibly sexy.”

I blush, and I wink at him. “You think so?”

“Definitely.”

I place my hand on his. I bring it up to my breast, and he squeezes it, his breath quickening, a lustful look in his eyes. He leans forward and kisses me hard, his mouth tastes of merlot, sweet and tangy. I lick his top lip, savoring the taste of him, and I throw myself into his arms, a burning desire to be touched by him overpowering my mind and body. He runs his hands over my body, then finally tangling his fingers in my now dry hair, kissing me hard. I can feel him getting hard, his lust for me evident. He breaks the kiss, only to leave tiny sweet pecks on my cheek, my neck, my collarbone. My head falls back, his touch driving my body crazy, so sensual and heavenly.

He stands up, and picks me up, my legs wrapped around his waist. He takes me back into the bedroom, and lays me gently on the bed, pulling up my shirt, kissing my stomach, up to my breasts, lavishing them with attention, and I swear I can hear a heavenly choir singing in the background. He suddenly changes his pace, and pulls down the sweatpants I'm wearing, kissing his way down to my mound, and he reaches my clit, and begins to suck. My back arches off the bed, and I moan. 

“James, that feels so good… don't stop please…” 

He continues, one hand stroking my thigh, the other splayed on my stomach, steadying me, making sure I don't thrash. I look down, and he's watching my face, gauging my reaction, clearly taking pleasure in the way he's making me feel. I can feel my orgasm coming, and I tense up, and I let go, releasing the tension in my belly. He stops, and kisses his way back up, and kisses my mouth, and I can taste my essence on his tongue, and I find it erotic. 

He smiles, and grinds himself against me, and I can feel him fully hard, pressed against my bare belly. I run my hands over his bare chest, tracing the plains and ridges of his muscles and his collar bone, my eyes traveling over his beautiful defined torso.  _ He’s perfect. Like a god. _

He notices my silly smile, and asks, “What's so amusing?”

I blush, embarrassed. “I was just thinking about how hot you look right now; tousled hair, bare chest, a lustful look in your eyes. It's arousing.”

He laughs. “Well I'm glad you find me so attractive. I know I find you extremely  attractive.” he leans down and bites my collarbone, making me wiggle. “You drive me crazy. I want you so much.”

“Oh really? Fancy that. James Franco wants me  _ badly. _ ” 

He grabs my sides, stilling me. “You know Cassie, I can get pretty dark in an instant.” He reaches for my chin, grabbing it firmly, bringing my face close to his. “Plus, we never really got to finish our little…  _ game _ , so to speak.”

I gulp. “T-that we didn't. I totally forgot about that.”

He shoots me a devilish grin. “I think we should continue it, don't you?”

“Y-yes.”

He gets off of me, and walks over to the closet. He brings out the chain and lock, and sets it down on the edge of the bed. He walks over and removes my shirt, my nipples hardening as soon as they come in contact with the cold air. His fingers skirt down to between my legs, no doubt to tease me. Just as he's about to reach that sweet spot, he pulls his hand away, and I groan, totally expecting it but nonetheless disappointed at the game he's playing.  _ I'm in for a long night. _


End file.
